


It's a beautiful day outside

by EnemiesWithBenefits



Series: self insert undertale [10]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrortale, F/M, Kissing, Second part smut, pacifist run, two part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8880136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnemiesWithBenefits/pseuds/EnemiesWithBenefits
Summary: You made a deal, oh-so very long ago -You would set them free, and then he would kill you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> " _He stands above you, axe poised above your throat._  
>  Unsurprisingly, you aren’t afraid. Not after this long you aren’t."  
> 1,060 words, 5 pages.

His iron-tight grip, surprisingly loose around the wooden, splintering handle of a familiar, rusted blood-bathed ax did nothing to comfort you – except, perhaps, the awe-stricken wonder upon his skull.

 

His dust-stained dirt marred bones were bathed in a myriad of colors – from pastel baby blue to a striking, vivid tangerine. The red orb within his left eye-socket narrowed to the size of a dime, smile dropped completely as he stared out into the horizon.

 

Out upon the etch of a darkening skyline, a drowsy sun made itself at rest, chased off by a waxing moon.

 

“* is that the moon?” Seeming to read your mind you nodded, following his sight to the sliver of said stellar body. He’s never seen the moon before – never seen the stars.

 

“* and those the stars?” He drops the ax completely, using said hand to point upwards like a toddler in absolute bewilderment. By his side, his brother stands, speechless, hunched over and seemingly vacant at such a wonder.

 

“* …” He doesn’t say anything more, far too focused on the world above.

 

You don’t blame him.

 

 

 

 

Later that night, everyone had gone off to do their own thing – more than once Sans had to stop Papyrus from wandering into the forest in a dazed stupor, constantly stuck between screaming his enthusiasm and shuffling about in a blank fascination for anything and everything.

 

The sun having long made its descent beyond view, all of you were laid out in a clearing, supposedly sleeping – only, Papyrus was the only one _actually_ sleeping, soft ‘Nyehs’ leaving him in a seemingly unburdened slumber.

 

You were lying silently, turned to face the forest beyond, listening for the sounds of the night around you – and for Sans.

 

Minutes or hours ago – time was so _strange_ after living underground for _so long –_ you’d heard him move, stand, and walk off. Only after a few steps he’d grown completely silent on his feet, either standing a few feet away or somehow walking without noise. Either you’d believe, knowing him.

 

… You hear a soft huff of air, opening your eyes and turning to look upwards, into Sans’ single red iris.

 

He stands above you, ax poised above your throat. There’s no malice, no glee in his expression – only confusion – fear.

 

Unsurprisingly, you aren’t afraid. Not after this long you aren’t.

 

“… Sans?” He lowers the ax back down to his side, something you’d almost been certain he left behind on that ridge near the entrance of the Underground. Why did he look so confused? Wasn’t this the supposed fulfillment of that promise you made so long ago –

 

You would set them free, and then he could kill you.

 

“* shhhh,” His voice is a husky whisper, scratchy from misuse, betraying him as he turns to throw a look behind him at a still snoring Papyrus. “* be quiet, human.”

 

Somehow, despite everything, he sounds oddly affectionate.

 

“* … come with me.”

 

You don’t hesitate to stand up and follow said monster into the night, the glimmering edge of a rusted ax and shining ivory bones under a crescent moon leading you through the darkened forest.

 

 

 

 

The trek through the darkened woods is silent between the two of you, the sound of quiet life all around singing out in replacement. Every so often Sans would pause – head tilting to the side at some strange noise or creature nearby. You couldn’t see his expression from behind him, but you can easily imagine the same wonder from before painting his skull.

 

The two of you are walking uphill.

 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you continued onwards, the mountain beneath you seeming to go on forever. You knew Sans isn’t taking you too far – why would he? Wouldn’t he want to stay near his brother?

 

Nails dug into your palms, your heart a jackrabbit in your chest.

 

He was taking you away to kill you.

 

… Wasn’t he?

 

 

 

 

It isn’t long until you come upon a clearing – much bigger than the one all of you had chosen to lay in. Flowers of all colors rise in the darkness upwards, towards a star filled sky, the heavens above so very clear and bright here.

 

Part of you can really appreciate the thought he’s put into this.

 

He leaves his ax leaning against a tree as he shuffles forward, and you follow him, into the bed of awaiting flowers.

 

“* come here.” His voice is gentle, hands at his side and twitching for the need to have something in them.

 

Confused, but not disobedient, you listen and quietly step forward. You trust him.

 

You trust him to make this quick.

 

You’re standing right in front of him. He smells dark, like the pine trees that grow in Snowdin and the freshly fallen snow that lies there. You ignore the tinge of copper that follows, like an afterthought.

 

That’s not who he really is, and you know it.

 

“* close your eyes.” He’s nearly close enough that his words ghost over your skin, gentle, careful.

 

You do.

 

Eventually, you hear a gentle sigh, then cold, firm phalanges find your waist. Before you can even react, his mouth is on your own, firm and yet gentle. You squeak in surprise but his grip only squeezes tight, one hand reaching up to gently trace along your spine until it finds your hair, digging into the tangled locks.

 

He’s kissing you like his life depends on it – like _your_ life depends on it – his teeth somehow malleable and fitting over your lips perfectly. It’s gentle at first, hesitant, but when you don’t pull away it grows into something more.

 

Fierce, hungry, _desperate –_

His phalanges only tighten in their grip, the one on your hip pressing into the small of your back to bring you closer. When you whine at the way his teeth scrape at your lips, a low growl of approval thrumming from his chest.

 

Eventually, he pulls away and you’re panting, eyes slowly opening to look at this wonderful, strange, monstrous skeleton before you.

 

His hand in your hair drops, finding your own. The way he holds it is curiously kind, thumb brushing over your knuckles in quiet fascination.

 

He’s looking at you like you’re more wonderful than the sun, the stars, the moon, or anything else he’s seen so far on the surface.

 

Somewhere, birds are singing.

**Author's Note:**

> I had started writing this for kinktober, but got so caught up on school and ect. that I never finished it.
> 
> I really love how vivid the imagry is here, and the premise it's based on. The second part will be smut, whenever I get around to it. For now, enjoy it as it is.
> 
> Tell me what you think!
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr!](http://scripttura.tumblr.com)


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